


Now Take Your Hand in Mine (and Never Let Go)

by martianwahtney



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Bisexual Stanley Uris, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Sassy Stanley Uris, Soft Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris is a Good Friend, haha spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21668113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martianwahtney/pseuds/martianwahtney
Summary: Stan’s phone lit up again, another unknown number. He could tell instantly it wasn’t Mike calling him. With a sigh he picked his phone up. What was one more unknown caller before- Stan glanced at the bathtub, tears pricking behind his eyes.“Stanley Uris,” he said when he answered the call.There was a heartbeat of silence.“Staniel?”Richie’s voice opened a floodgate of emotions that Stan hadn’t even been aware of. Richie Tozier had been everything. He was Stan’s first friend, his first crush, he was the first person Stan went to when he needed someone to talk to, he was the first person Stan looked for when the Losers used to have sleepovers. It was always-always- Richie.--Alternatively, Richie calls Stan right before Stan starts the bath, and instead of taking the bath, Stan goes to Derry.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Audra Phillips, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 27
Kudos: 251





	1. Chapter 1

Stan’s phone lit up again, another unknown number. He could tell instantly it wasn’t Mike calling him. With a sigh he picked his phone up. What was one more unknown caller before- Stan glanced at the bathtub, tears pricking behind his eyes. 

“Stanley Uris,” he said when he answered the call. 

There was a heartbeat of silence. 

“Staniel?”

Richie’s voice opened a floodgate of emotions that Stan hadn’t even been aware of. Richie Tozier had been everything. He was Stan’s first friend, his first crush, he was the first person Stan went to when he needed someone to talk to, he was the first person Stan looked for when the Losers used to have sleepovers. It was always-  _ always _ \- Richie. 

“Richie,”

Stan sat down on the toilet lid, acutely aware of how hard his legs were shaking. 

“How’d you know it was me?” Richie asked. 

“No one calls me Staniel, dumbass,” Stan replied.

“Right,”

“How’d you get my number?” Stan asked.

“Mike. Called him-,” Richie stopped talking suddenly- highly unusual for the Trashmouth. 

“Rich?”

There was a stretch of silence. 

“Hiding from my manager. He’s pissed because I just bombed the set within three minutes. I think he thinks I have a drug problem,” Richie said at last. 

“Right. You’re a comedian. Shocking, you’re not actually that funny,” Stan said. 

Richie laughed. Stan wanted to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life. 

“They don’t let me do my own material, fuck off Staniel,”

It was Stan’s turn to laugh. 

“So you’re not funny  _ and _ you’re a fraud,”

Richie was laughing again. 

“Stan the Man gets off a good one!”

“I’ve always been funnier than you Rich,” Stan reminded him. 

“Fuck off,”

“Might actually get fired after this,” Richie said. 

“Why? For not only a bombing a set but hiding from your manager? I can’t imagine why anyone would want to fire you,” Stan deadpanned.

“Ha,” Richie said sharply. 

“Steve keeps trying to call me. He’s just going to yell at me. What am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry Steve my childhood friend- who I don’t even fucking remember by the way- called me and told me I need to return to Derry- which I  _ also _ didn’t remember- and I’m going haha bye’?”

“You sound insane,” Stan told him. 

“I know!”

“Why do I keep thinking about spaghetti?” Richie asked suddenly, sending Stan into an absolute fit of laughter. 

“Why are you laughing at me? This is a genuine question Stan! I can’t stop thinking about my spaghetti man- Eddie! Holy shit Eddie!”

Stan heard the sound of a door shutting and Richie let out a quiet sigh. 

“What are you doing?” Stan asked after a particularly loud bang from Richie’s end of the line. 

“Packing,”

Stan looked at the bathtub again. 

“You’re going?” he asked quietly. 

“We promised. I… I don’t remember why we promised but we did,”

_ Pennywise _ , Stan thought, his gaze never leaving the tub. 

“You’re not thinking of  _ not _ coming, right?” Richie asked. 

Stan tore his gaze away from the tub. It felt as though there was a lead ball in the pit of his stomach. 

“Whatever this is… we can’t do this without you. I can’t do this without you,”

Taking himself off the board had seemed so logical, it seemed like the right choice. He wasn’t brave like the other Losers. He never had been. 

But Stan had never been able to let Richie down. Not when they were kids, not when they were teens, and he couldn’t start now. 

“I’ll be there,” Stan said. 

“The others sure as hell won’t be able to keep your trashmouth in check,” he added. 

“This right here is what the kids call biphobia,” Richie said. 

“Don’t try to sound cool,” Stan said, a smile tugging at his lips. He hoped his tone came off as casual and  _ not  _ like his brain was stuck on Richie being bi- because his train of thought had absolutely went off the rail the second Richie said ‘biphobia’. It went right off the rail and crashed into the ‘I’ve had a thing for Richie since I was 12 years old but forgot about it for 20+ years because of a psychotic killer clown’ part of his brain that really was way too big to be sane.

“Are you trying to say I’m not cool? Staniel I am wounded!”

Stan shook his head as if to physically shake the thoughts from his head.

“I didn’t try to say anything, Richie, I just said it,” Stan deadpanned. 

“Yowza! Warn me next time before you come for my life,”

“No,”

“How did I survive the past 20-whatever years without your sweet, sweet, scathing words?” Richie mused.

Stan glanced up at the ceiling for a moment and shook his head. He had really missed the dumbass.

“So you really came out as bi then?” Stan asked, completely ignoring what Richie had just said.. 

“Well only to you, but yea,”

“Same,”

“Wait what?”

“I’ll see you in Derry,” Stan said, a smile clawing on his face. 

“Stan wait you can't just drop this bomb on me-“

“Bye Richie,”

Stan ended the call. A vaguely hysterical laugh bubbled out of him. He scrubbed at his face and let out a heavy sigh. He pushed himself off the toilet and walked out of the bathroom. Leave it to Richie fucking Tozier to unknowingly talk Stan out of killing himself. Before he started packing to return to the helltown that was Derry, Maine, he added Richie and Mike’s numbers to his contacts if only to remind himself that he wasn’t alone in the fight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the diner and the Inn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spot the psych reference

“Jesus Christ,”

Stan’s gaze flicked up to find that Richie was staring at him, jaw dropped. 

“It’s Stan, actually, but I appreciate the compliment,” Stan said as he stepped into the room.

“Stan you got hot!”

“You say that like I wasn’t always hot,”

Richie was beaming at him, brown eyes shining and crinkling at the corners. Richie pushed himself to his feet and suddenly Stan was being pulled into a hug. Richie was taller than Stan, only by a few inches but still. Richie was warm- he had always run warm though. He was so warm and so solid and Stan had missed him so much more than he originally thought. 

They parted from each other and Richie affectionately patted the side of Stan’s face. 

“Good to see you Stan Stan the Handsome Man,”

Stan hugged the rest of the Losers in turn. Bev seemed to be surprised that he had shown up. It didn’t take long for Stan to remember the Deadlights. Bev had seen them all grown up, fighting IT a second time. It was beyond plausible that she had known he would commit suicide. 

Stan met her gaze for a moment before very pointedly looking at Richie. Richie was talking very animatedly with Bill and Eddie.

Dinner started off as nice as it could, and then went drastically downhill the second they all started to remember Pennywise. After five minutes of sheer chaos Pennywise  _ stopped _ torturing them and they called for the check, nearly all of them already dying to get the fuck out of Derry.

In the end it was Mike and Bill who convinced them to stay and try to figure out a way to kick Its ass. That, of course, is how Stan found himself at the bar of the Derry Inn with Bev.

“I really didn’t expect to see you,” Bev said softly as she leaned over the bar.

“You knew I would…?” Stan gestured to his wrist, unable to finish the question.

Bev nodded, not quite meeting his gaze.

“I was going to. But Richie called,”

At last her eyes met him.

“I didn’t think our Trashmouth had enough common sense for that,”

“It’s not like I told him my plan, Bev,” Stan said with a tiny smile.

“He was expecting me to show up and I never could let him down,”

She smiled softly, her eyes searching his. Stan hated that look, he always felt like she knew everything that was going through his head.

“You can’t tell him,” Stan said.

“I won’t,” she promised.

Richie thundered down the stairs.

“Are we getting drunk?” Richie asked.

“Very,”

Bev poured him a glass of whiskey and he downed it. Stan watched Richie’s throat move as he swallowed the drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. He tore his gaze away from Richie and felt his cheeks heat up. 

Bev caught his gaze again, an all knowing smirk on her face. Stan was fucked.

“Alright, god this sucks,” Richie said.

Stan hummed in agreement.

“We’re really doing this?”

Bev nodded as she poured him another glass. Richie downed it just as quick.

“Fuck the clown,” he rasped.

“Alright, going to bed. Maybe fucking die in the process who fucking knows,” he grumbled as he pushed away from the bar. Stan watched him bound up the stairs, a tiny smile on his face.

“You want to keep staring?” Bev asked, he could hear the smile in her voice.

He flipped her off.

“I’ll stare at him all I want,” Stan replied.

“Stan!” she sounded delightedly scandalized.

Stan grinned at her.

“I should get to bed. We have a uh… big day tomorrow,” Stan said, his expression twisting at the mere thought of having to face Pennywise again.

“We sure do,” she mused.

Stan headed up the stairs and into his room. He took his time getting ready for bed, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was back in Derry and that he was going to face the clown again.

He tried to sleep- for nearly an hour he laid there, eyes closed and tossing and turning- and then he gave up, pushed himself out of bed and marched out of his room and across the hall to Richie’s room. Richie opened the door before Stan could even knock.

“Stan!”

“I can’t sleep,” Stan informed him, as if it was something Richie could fix.

“Me either,”

Richie stepped to the side and let Stan into his room. Richie shut the door after him.

“How’d you know I was at the door?” Stan asked, watching as Richie flopped back down on the bed. He was too big for the tiny inn bed, it was almost comical.

“I didn’t,” Richie admitted.

“I was going to go bother you,”

Stan smiled softly and sat on the bed next to Richie.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Not for lack of trying,”

“Well gee, Stan the man, wanna spoon it up?” Richie offered.

“This bed is barely big enough for you, trashmouth,” Stan muttered.

“Well you know what they say-”

“Beep fucking beep,”

Richie snorted, throwing a long arm over his eyes. Not that Stan would ever say it out loud, but if the bed had been bigger he absolutely would be more inclined to… ‘spoon it up’ with Richie.

“I have a better idea,” Stan said as he stood.

“Better than us cuddling? Oh Stan I’m swooning,”

Stan rolled his eyes. He left Richie’s room with the door opened and returned to his own. He maneuvered the mattress off the frame and started to push it toward Richie’s room.

“Stanley what the fuck are you doing?” 

Stan craned his neck to peek over the mattress. Eddie was on the other side looking grumpy- which he always did.

“Richie and I can’t sleep,”

Eddie smiled softly and shook his head but helped Stan push the mattress into Richie’s room.

“This is way less sexier than cuddling,” Richie commented as he watched Eddie and Stan push the mattress into the room.

“Shut up,” Stan huffed.

“Alright,” Eddie said as the mattress dropped on the floor.

“Help me with mine,” he said to Stan.

“I just hauled this thing from my room, get your own,” Stan replied.

“Fuck you, I helped!”

Eddie’s increasing volume brought the rest of the Losers into the room, which spurred them to bring their mattresses into Richie’s room as well. Half an hour later they were all settled in Richie’s room, curled together on mattresses on the floor- except for Richie, he refused to move from his bed.

(“You’re such a pain in the ass, Richie,”

“Aw spagheds that just what your mom used to say,”

“Beep, beep you’re so disgusting,”)

Stan didn’t sleep well, but at least he slept. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, glossing over the parts about pennywise and instead focusing solely on richie and stan being dumb: the only clown here is richie and stan pretending they're not in love with each other


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stan and richie have a talk(tm), the Losers go to the quarry and they're soft

Richie, for all intents and purposes, was going to get the hell out of Derry- fuck Ben and his well-meant speech about how they could kill It if they were united. He was on his way out of town when he passed the synagogue. Without thinking too much about it, he turned into a parking spot and made his way inside. With damn near perfectly clarity he recalled Stan’s bar mitzvah. Richie let a tiny smirk settle on his face at the memory. Stan’s bar mitzvah had been one hell of an event.

“You’re trying to leave,” Stan said as he sat down next to Richie.

“I can’t do this,” Richie admitted.

“Rich,” he sighed.

“I didn’t want to come here,” Stan said softly.

Richie looked at him-  _ really _ looked at him. Stan could practically feel all of Richie’s attention settle on him and it was  _ weird _ . He was so used to the Richie that was focused on 12 different things at once that having all of that attention focused on him- god Stan could be under the weight of all of Richie’s focus for a hundred years and he still wouldn’t be used it.

“I really didn’t. I was going to take myself off the board,”

“Stan-”

“I didn’t think I was brave enough to come here and I knew if I stayed back that you would all die. So I decided to take… then you called and you talked me out of it without knowing,” Stan said. He itched to reach out and take Richie’s hands, to thread their fingers together like he always wanted to.

“You can’t fucking leave me here,”

They sat there for a while before Richie grabbed his hand and gave a gentle squeeze. Just like the rest of him, Richie’s fingers were long and spindly. His hands were calloused in strange places and warm and fit in Stan’s perfectly.

“Thanks for showing up, Stan,” Richie whispered, his voice thick.

“Anything for you,”

“We gotta go back, huh?”

“Yea,”

Richie stood by his promise to Stan and went with his friends, his Losers, to bully that stupid clown to death. Then they did the only logical thing left to do once they had escaped Neibolt, they went to the quarry.

Bev launched herself off the cliff just like she had done when they were kids, a peal of laughter escaping her on the way down. Then went Mike and Bill, their shouts echoed throughout the quarry.

“Fellas,”

Richie gave a mock salute before throwing himself off the cliff. The jump seemed way scarier at 40 than it had at 13. He did not feel any cleaner when he resurfaced than he had before he jumped. He had forgotten how fucking disgusting the quarry was- he could practially  _ hear _ Eddie bitching about it.

Less than five minutes later- when Eddie really did hit the water- Richie could  _ actually _ hear Eddie bitching about it.

“This is fucking disgusting,” Eddie announced.

“Is it?” Richie asked.

Stan swiped at Richie for egging Eddie on. Richie paid him no mind, his gaze trained on Eddie who, as expected, was listing off every single possible disease they could catch in the stagnant water.

Richie caught Stan’s gaze. Stan shook his head but grinned at Richie. That stupid grin, soft and fond and basically said the words ‘ _ Richie you’re an idiot _ ’, made Richie’s heart do fucking summersaults. 

“So basically, Eds, you’re saying it’s probably a bad idea if I shoved your head underwater,” Richie stated.

“Richie if you come anywhere near me I will kill you,” Eddie threatened.

“And that’s not my name dickwad!”

“Richie stop trying to give Eddie a heart attack,” Bev called.

“But Bev-”

“We need to actually get cleaned up,”

“Oh god yes please,”

“Ben please! Eddie can only get so hard,” Richie called.

Eddie’s face contorted. He made an attempt to drown Richie where he stood, but Richie was standing and couldn’t be budged.

Stan beamed at the sight. It was like they were all 13 again. Eddie and Richie were antagonizing each other, Bev was sunning, and Mike, Bill, and Ben were playing what looked to be a frankly ridiculous game of tag. Stan loved them.

“Alright boys! Let’s go!” Bev called from the beach, her hair looked like fire in the fading sunlight.

“I’m starving,” Mike announced as the six of them started making their way to the shore.

“Maybe we should order Chinese,” Richie offered, faux innocence clear as day in his voice.

His offer was met with a chorus of protests and more than one splash of water aimed toward his face. Richie just laughed in response, joyous and carefree. Stan could have stared at him forever.

“How about p-pizza?” Bill asked.

“This is why Bill’s the leader,”

For some unknown reason, Bill actually flushed at that, like he was surprised that they considered him to be the leader of the Losers.

“Pizza it is,”

They made their way back to the Derry Inn. Ben was the one to call in their pizza order, the rest of the Losers took that time to shower and get all the Pennywise, sewer, and quarry off of them.

“I’ll wait for the pizza, go get cleaned up,” Stan said to Ben once he was finished with his shower.

Ben grinned at him.

“Thanks Stan,”

Stan watched him bound up the stairs and sat down on one of the chairs in the lobby. It was over, they had killed that stupid clown. They were fucking free. Stan heard someone thump down the stairs and turned his head to see Richie. He was still pulling a grey shirt over his head as he descended the stairs. Stan tore his gaze away before Richie could catch him staring.

“Well hey there Stan the Man,”

Richie’s hair was still wet from the shower and he looked so beautiful and Stan was so fucked.

“Trashmouth,”

Richie flopped down on the chair next to him, gangly limbs taking up far too much space.

“We fucking did it,” Richie said quietly.

Stan reached across the gap between their chairs to take hold of Richie’s hand. Richie smiled softly.

“Yea,” Stan agreed.

There was a loud knock on the door. Richie and Stan jumped.

“Is that the fucking pizza?” Bev yelled from somewhere upstairs.

Stan pushed himself to his feet and headed to the door and pulled it open. A young teenager with six boxes of pizza stood there.

“Rich,” Stan called.

Richie took half the stack while Stan took the other.

“How much?”

“It’s all paid for, tip included,” the teen responded.

“Thanks!” Richie called as Stan shut the door.

“Pizza!” Richie yelled.

There was a clamber from upstairs and the Losers darted down the stairs to get to the pizza. They ate and they laughed and when they were finished they headed to Richie’s room to sleep. Stan dropped himself in Richie’s bed, too tired to pretend like he didn’t want to be close to Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOFT BOYS SOFT BOYS SOFT BOYS


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Losers head to Ben's (not a murder) cabin for some much needed relaxation, Bev has zero chill and honestly neither do Stan or Richie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u recognize Ben's (not a murder) cabin i also used it in my reddie fic, but i first thought of the idea for this fic in particular

When Richie woke up, Stan was still in bed next to him. Not to be cliche or sappy or anything, but Stan looked like a fucking angel when he slept. The tension that lined his face during the waking hours were blissfully gone when he was asleep. His dark curls were a mess in a way that he would hate if he was awake.

“Stop staring,”

Richie jumped and flipped over to find that Mike was awake.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Richie hissed back.

Mike shot him a deadpanned look.

“Don’t you-”

“Then perish,” Mike said before breaking out in a wide grin.

“I am  _ wounded _ here Micycle,”

“Let’s go grab breakfast,” Mike said as he ignored Richie’s words.

“Why would I do that?” Richie asked.

“So Stan doesn’t wake up to find you staring at him?”

“Where’d you want to go?”

Mike beamed at him. The two crept around the Losers- who thankfully had not woken up by Richie and Mike’s half whispered banter- and headed downstairs. Unsurprisingly, there was no one at the front desk.

“Does anyone actually work here?” Richie asked.

“I have no idea,”

Mike drove them to the nearest fast food place where they ordered an ungodly amount of food, coffee, and orange juice. Richie even made sure to throw in a few of the “healthy” options for Eddie and/or Stan. Once they had secured the food and drink they returned to the Inn and proceeded to wake the Losers up for breakfast.

They ate in the communal area on the first floor, all of them still too tired to carry proper conversations.

“So what the fuck are we going to do now?” Richie asked as he crumpled up the wrapper.

“Hm?” Bev questioned, not bothering to part from her coffee.

“Do we just… pack up and go home?”

There was an uneasiness that settled upon them at the question. It had been 27 years since they had all been together, and they were not eager to part so soon, not when they hadn’t had a real chance to catch up.

“Well I have a cabin,” Ben piped up.

“In the woods?” Richie asked, earning himself a shove from Stan.

“Yes, in the woods,” Ben said with a half smile.

“It’s big enough to fit all of us, and it’s in upstate New York so we won’t have to stay in Maine,”

The Losers looked at each other for a moment.

“So we’re going to Ben’s murder cabin then?” Richie asked.

“Richie-” Ben started.

“Just to destress,”

“So we’ll be there forever,”

Stan snorted and shook his head.

They didn’t leave the Inn until noon. They had to put their mattresses back in their appropriate rooms and make up the beds again, and then after that they all still needed to pack up their things.

It was a seven hour drive to Ben’s cabin. They stopped a lot for food which usually took a bit of coordination because there were four cars amongst the seven of them. It was dark by the time they reached the cabin.

“So there are four rooms-” Ben started.

“I thought you said it was big enough for all of us,”

“Sharing a room isn’t that big a deal, Eds, we’ve all been sharing once since we got to Derry,” Richie reminded him.

“That’s not my name!” Eddie shot back.

“Ben, how are we dividing the rooms?” he asked.

“Easy!” Bev said with a wicked smirk on her face.

“Ben and I will take one room, and the rest of you can fight over the other three rooms,” her sharp gaze lingered over Stan and Richie in particular.

Next to her, Ben was an absolute blushing mess.

“Cute Haystack,” Richie said fondly.

Ben shot Richie a look before leading Bev off to what Richie assumed was the master bedroom. Richie turned his attention back to the rest of his friends, none of them looked like they wanted to give up the chance for a single room.

“Well I don’t mind sharing,” Richie said at last.

Stan, who was starting to feel every single minute of the seven hour ride to the cabin, was not in the mood to debate who got what room.

“Richie just pick out a room and I’ll bring our bags to it,” he said.

He wanted to take a shower and sleep.

“Oh,” Richie’s voice was strangled and hoarse.

“I love it when you get all bossy on me,”

Stan rolled his eyes and headed for the living room where they had all dropped their bags. He grabbed his and Richie’s bags and hauled them back to the hallway.

“Here,” Richie took his back from Stan and Stan followed him into a room on the left. 

In Stan’s opinion it was a typical cabin bedroom. Wood fucking everywhere, on the floor, on the walls, wooden beams across the (wooden) ceiling. There was a large bed in the middle of the room, It faced a set of massive bay windows that probably offered a spectacular view in the daylight but it was just plain creepy at night. There was a nightstand on either side of the bed, a dresser pushed off to a corner (all wood) and a door that Stan figured led to a closet.

Stan first set his bag on the bed before heading to the massive windows and drawing the blinds closed. He had no interest in waking up in the middle of the night and seeing a big black expanse of nothingness right outside the window. 

“Oh shit it’s a half-bath!” Richie said excitedly.

Stan turned to see he had opened the door that Stan had originally assumed was a closet.

“Convenient,” 

Stan returned to his bag and pulled out his pajamas and his toiletries bag.

“I’m going to take a shower before anyone else takes it,” he said.

“Is that an invitation?” Richie asked, peeking out of the bathroom.

Stan rolled his eyes.

“Beep, beep,” he said before he headed out of the room.

“That wasn’t a no!” he heard Richie call after him.

Richie took the time alone to change into his pajamas, a pair of sweats and a grey shirt, and continued to get ready for bed. 

“So, you and Stan, hm?”

Richie peeked out of the bathroom to find Bev sitting on the bed, an all knowing smile on her face.

“Yes?”

Bev leaned forward, chin resting in her hand. She knew. How the hell did she know?

“You should tell him,” she said before he could say anything.

“Why on earth would I do that?”

“Because the clown took 27 years from us and we shouldn’t waste any more time being scared,” she said.

Richie ducked back into the bathroom, not wanting to deal with the way she was looking at him.

“We’re going to have to make a trip to the store tomorrow, start thinking about what you want,” she said after a few moments of silence.

“Whatever will piss Eddie off the most,” Richie said without really thinking about it. 

Bev laughed softly.

“Think about it will you?”

Richie didn’t respond, opting instead to watch her walk out of the room. She was right- well Bev was always right- but that didn’t mean he had to do anything about it. 

Richie finished up getting ready for bed before collapsing on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers or anything. Stan slipped back into the room, he wore a pair of dark pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt. He looked infinitely more put together than Richie did, even in pajamas.

Stan packed his old clothes away carefully before heading into the adjacent bathroom. Originally he had planned to brush his teeth and wash his face in the other bathroom, but Eddie wanted to shower and Stan didn’t want to make his friend wait. So now Stan was in the small half-bath, brushing his teeth and trying not to think about the way Richie was sprawled over the bed just a few feet away.

“Hey Stan?” Richie called.

“Hm?” Stan hummed back, not taking the toothbrush from his mouth.

“I think I fell in love with you when you cussed out your dad at your own bar mitzvah,” Richie said casually.

Stan spat out the toothpaste in his mouth and stared at the faucet. He could feel his cheeks heat up.

“I didn’t cuss him out,” he found himself saying. 

“You dropped the f-bomb in a house of worship in front of your Rabbi father, I think that qualifies as cussing him out,” Richie said. 

“I called myself a ‘fucking Loser’ if I was cussing anyone out it was myself,”

Richie’s loud laugh echoed around Stan’s head. He loved making Richie laugh like that- that laugh, so loud and boisterous always made Stan feel like things were going to be ok. Stan set his toothbrush to the side and walked out of the bathroom. Richie was already laying on the bed, long limbs spread out over the bed.

“Halloween of 1985,” Stan said as he leaned against the doorjamb.

“Hm?”

“When you punched that kid dressed up in the clown costume in the face because he wouldn’t leave me alone. That’s when I knew I was in love with you,” Stan said, taking delight in the way Richie went red.

Stan managed to work up the courage to cross the room to the bed. Richie sat up and swung his long legs over the edge.

“Really?” Richie asked softly.

“Yea Rich,”

Richie reached up to cup Stan’s face gently, an expression of disbelief on his face.

“Well shit Stan the Man, you really know how to make a lady blush,”

“Beep, bee-”

Richie pulled him down and kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, and Stan really couldn’t get enough. Eventually they parted from each other, there was a massive smile on Richie’s face. 

Stan climbed onto the other side of the bed and leaned over to switch off his bedside lamp.

“So we’re just going to sleep now?” Richie asked.

Stan rolled his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow to grab Richie and haul him in for another quick kiss.

“Yes,” he said.

“We’ve been driving all day, Rich, I want to sleep. We’ll have all of tomorrow to gross our friends out,” he said, feeling a smile blossom on his face at the mere thought of just  _ being _ with Richie.

“Oh hell yea!”

It took them a few moments to get situated, and then Richie leaned over to the lamp on his nightstand and the room plunged into darkness.

“We never really talked about either of us coming out,” Richie stated as he settled back into bed.

“We both literally admitted to be in love with each other Rich,” Stan replied with a smile on his face.

“But you never said it outloud, I mean I bared my soul to you-”

“I’m bi, Richie,” Stan said.

“Stan the Man,” Richie said gently.

“Stan  _ my _ Man,” he heard Richie whisper.

“You’re such a dork,” Stan said.

“Yes but I’m your dork. No take backs,” Richie said.

“Why on earth would I take that back?” Stan asked.

Next to him, Richie made a strangled noise. Stan turned his head to look at him and even in the darkness of the room he could see the deep blush on Richie’s cheeks. Stan beamed and surged forward to kiss him on the cheek.

“I love you, stupid,”

“Love you too, Stan,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STOZIER RIGHTS

**Author's Note:**

> [me? back at it with an IT fic? It's more likely than u think](http://www.eddieskaspbrck.tumblr.com/)
> 
> also i couldn't name this fic Take You With Me bc i already named a different fic that so press f in the chat lads


End file.
